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Hickok twirled the Pythons into his holsters. He walked over and looked down at Manta. “Piece of cake, Fish Lips.”

Epilogue

They were at the designated rendezvous spot, Lake Forest Park, waiting for the Hurricane to return. Their relief and happiness at being reunited was tempered by their sadness at the loss of the Family’s flamboyant gunman. Gar, Fab, and forty Sharks were waiting with the Warriors. Gar had assumed leadership of the Sharks, none of whom had opposed his taking command. A majority of the Sharks considered Gar to be an excellent candidate, and a majority also wanted to avoid antagonizing Gar’s newfound friends, the Warriors, at all costs. Especially Yama.

Blade had scoured Shark territory for Hickok after returning to the site of the ambush and discovering the gunman’s body was missing. He entertained the forlorn hope the gunfighter was alive, although his better judgment told him the rats had disposed of the corpse.

“I am sorry about your friend,” Gar said to Blade as they stood near the field where the Hurricane would land.

“Thanks,” Blade responded, his expression downcast. “I don’t know how I’ll tell his wife and son.”

“You won’t need to tell them a thing,” Rikki commented from Blade’s left.

Blade glanced at the martial artist, who was staring to the south.

“How does he do it?” Yama asked no one in particular.

Blade looked in the direction Rikki was gazing, and his features brightened, a broad smile creasing his face. He slung the Commando over his right shoulder and jogged toward the man who had just emerged from the undergrowth 40 yards to the south. “Hickok!”

Hickok was wiping at a smudge of dirt on his left leg. He saw his friend approaching and ran to meet him. “Blade! Where the dickens have you been?”

The two Warriors met each other halfway. They halted and studied one another for a moment.

“I thought you were dead,” Blade said.

“Me? I’m too ornery to die,” Hickok joked.

To the gunman’s utter astonishment, Blade unexpectedly stepped forward and embraced him in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground.

“Damn! I missed you!” Blade declared ecstatically.

Hickok struggled to break loose. “Put me down, you dang-blasted idiot! What do you think you’re doin’, anyway? I swear! You’re gettin’ worse than Geronimo!”

Blade grinned and released the gunfighter.

Hickok shook his head in annoyance. “You ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll tell your missus on you!”

“Where have you been?” Blade inquired. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Rikki and Yama reached them.

There you two are!” Hickok said. “I was beginnin’ to think I was the only one tryin’ to get our mission accomplished.”

Blade stared over the gunman’s right shoulder at a column of armed men and women coming from the underbrush. “Who are they?”

Hickok glanced back. “They are some of the ones we came here to rescue. Remember them? That’s Captain Dale in the lead, and there are seventy more behind him. The rest are camped two miles from here.”

“You found Manta?” Blade asked in amazement.

“Yep.”

“What happened?” Blade queried.

Hickok ran his right index finger across his throat.

Blade stared at the column. “Do you mean to tell me you took care of Manta and rescued the people he was holding all by yourself?”

“All by my lonesome,” Hickok said. “I don’t see why you guys even came along.”

Gar and Fab were approaching.

“Who are the two book ends?” Hickok inquired.

“I’ll introduce them in a bit,” Blade stated. “Why don’t we get Captain Dale over here and make the introductions all at once. Then we can compare notes on what happened and make plans for the future.”

“Sounds okay by me,” Hickok commented. “Just so you don’t get long-winded on us. I’ve breathed enough hot air on this trip already.”

Hours later, after the introductions had been made, after the Sharks and the survivors of Mania’s Humarium had gathered around a fire and agreed to consolidate all of their forces and to return Seattle to exclusively human control, Blade nudged Hickok and led the gunman away from the discussion.

“Hickok! Blade! Hold up a second!”

Captain Dale ran up to the Warriors, grinning from ear to ear. He stared at the gunman. “I want to thank you again for what you did. We’re free today because of you.”

“Glad I could help,” Hickok said.

Dale looked at Blade. “I understand you will be returning to California soon?”

“Yes,” Blade verified.

“Would you do me a favor?” Dale asked.

“What is it?”

“Inform Governor Melnick we’ll be staying in Seattle until everything here is organized and we’re sure we’ve heard the last of the Brethren. The crew and I feel we owe it to ourselves and the people here,” Dale stated.

“You understand, don’t you?”

“We understand,” Blade assured the officer.

Dale smiled and returned to the meeting.

Hickok gazed at Blade. “What’s up, Big Guy? Why do you want to talk to me alone?”

“I have something important to ask you,” Blade disclosed.

“Shoot.”

Blade placed his hands on his hips. “Well, as you know, I’m going to spend a lot of time in California in the months ahead—”

“You plannin’ to do any surfin’?” Hickok interrupted.

“And I need someone I can trust to take charge of the Warriors while I’m gone,” Blade went on. “Someone who can lead the Warriors in a time of crisis. Someone who always gets the job done, no matter what the odds.”

“I read about surfin’ once,” Hickok said. “You take this ironing board, see, and you…” He paused, staring at Blade. “Someone to take charge while you’re playin’ on the beach? Who’d you have in mind?”

Blade grinned. “You, dummy.”

“Me? You mean it?”

“Would I joke about something as important as this?”

Blade rejoined.

“I appreciate the honor,” Hickok remarked. “I truly do. And I won’t let you down. I promise. I’ll handle everything the same as I always do.”

Blade smiled. “That’s what worries me.”